


Violet Hour

by sunaddicted



Category: Den lille Havfrue | The Little Mermaid - Hans Christian Andersen, James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - The Little Mermaid Fusion, Angst, DEAL WITH IT, Dark Magic, F/M, M/M, Magic, Merman!Q, Modern Retelling, Mute Q, One-Sided Relationship, Religion, SO, Sad Ending, Unrequited Love, that's why there's major character death, this is inspired to the original version
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-23
Updated: 2016-09-23
Packaged: 2018-08-15 04:47:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8043118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunaddicted/pseuds/sunaddicted
Summary: The first breath of fresh hair burned down Q's throat and he gasped, coughing and laughing with exhilaration at the same time while he spied at the horizon with half-closed eyes, the brilliance too much to stand for his pupils used to the darkness of the ocean's depths. His pale arms were thrown open up towards the sky, seafoam sliding down his wrists as if the ocean itself was having difficulties with letting its fairest child go; not that the flimsy hold would have ever been able to hold Q back, not once he managed to peel his eyelids open and the vastness of the world was forever seared in his retinas - an invisible brand of ownership.





	Violet Hour

**Author's Note:**

> This fic it's inspired to the original version of "The little mermaid", the one written by Andersen. Despite the death of the little mermaid, I like this version much more than the Disney one for several reasons: the main one is that Andersen empowers the little mermaid in his tale not making her kill the prince's spouse; she doesn't lower herself to murder but chooses to leave behind a man that will never love her and pass to a quieter life that will give her more satisfaction.  
> In fact, the prince doesn't see the little mermaid as anything more than a cute odd girl and he loves her as a sister, never giving her hints about feeling something more.
> 
> Regarding the prevalence of the religious theme, I wanted to say just a few words. Andersen suffered both from a religious and a sexuality crises, that's why he stressed so much the fact Merfolk were all soulless. The mermaid was a symbol of the author's sexuality crises and, being quite a religious man, he felt as if his doubts regarding his own heterosexuality were to be condemned.
> 
> The title refers to the recurring concept of "the violet hour" in T. S. Eliot's "The Waste Land"; the violet hour is that time of the day when twilight is approaching and everything fades away, happiness included.
> 
> Okay, I'm done with the boring part. I hope you enjoy the fic! <3

_Violet Hour_

 

In the freezing depths of the ocean, the red petals of the flowers looked as if they were dancing flames, licking up the vividly contrasting cornflower-blue of the water they lived suspended in; they had been carefully arranged into a small circle, trying to mirror the sun burning up unreachable in the sky, and in their midst a marble statue of a handsome man stood tall. Admiring his little garden, Q couldn't help thinking that the statue either was burning up in his cold and artificial sun, or that it was slowly drowning in a syrupy sea of blood.

Q was the youngest of the Triton's children and, by far, the oddest: no-one had ever shown such a fascination and incomprehensible love for the upside world, where the sleek beauty of his shimmering tail wasn't recognised and a soul seemed to be a requirement to be truly accepted in their folds.

His grandmother didn't see any harm in what she thought to be just a child's attraction towards the unknown and fed the curious child the tales of her many journeys: M told the wide-eyed boy everything about the flying fishes that swam up in the air, nesting in trees and singing cheerful tunes that put so much joy in the heart and had made her tail dance to their rhythms; she tried to describe the way smells had disoriented her in the beginning, since so deep under water nothing had a scent, but how lovely it had been to have so much new information and a new exciting way to learn the world; M painted with words the landscapes she had gazed upon from a multitude of different shores for her youngest nephew and told him how the humans' world had quickly evolved and changed during her long life, especially focusing on their inventions that she knew to be of great interest to her little boy.

And the longing in Q grew deeper and stronger, to the point he felt a harsh tug to his heart whenever his siblings turned fifteen and they had their grandmother's permission to swim up to the surface and finally see for themselves that wonderful world he could only dream about. Each tale he collected from his brothers and sisters, Q coveted like a treasure in his mind and he always made sure to polish those memories to keep them alive and vivid.

Q couldn't understand how his siblings got bored with the upside world after a while they had wandered its shores and he was frustrated that they wasted their precious time underwater, where it was always cold and nothing burned bright with life. Whenever his brothers and sisters took each other by the hands, forming an uneven circle that seemed to mock the perfect geometry of the sun, and gracefully swam to the surface to sing their melodies to the ships cutting through foamy waves, Q followed them with longing in his gaze.

Sometimes those majestic ships sank and they tried to soothe the sailors, singing to them about the great beauties lurking in the depths of the ocean: trees and flowers so mobile had put their roots in the golden sands that carpeted the rocky bottom of the ocean; the walls of the Triton's castle were made of corals, brightly coloured and contorted into fantastical shapes and the windows carved in them were made of amber so clear no human had ever seen it; every centimetre of the palace roofs were covered in shells that opened or closed, following the waves as they came and went, revealing the huge pearls they harboured.

Only, the sailors and other passengers never saw the beauties the Merpeople sang about because by the time they touched the golden sands, they had already drowned and what was left of them was only baubles and trinkets the Merpeople collected as if they were toys; forks, clocks, necklaces, medals, cartridges and bullets all became weird ornaments in Q's siblings' gardens and to Q they looked like sad shrines of a civilisation he would never touch with hand.

Death was a strange concept to Merpeople: they didn't have souls that would grant them an afterlife in Heaven, behind the golden gates that guarded God and the Angels; they lived longer though, their lifespans often prolonging well further than three hundred years and when it was time to leave their mortal bodies, death came with the sunrise and turned them into sea-foam - what happened from that moment on, it was a mystery even to Merpeople. A mystery that nagged Q because the little merman wanted nothing more than to have a soul and be human, to have those ungraceful looking appendages his grandmother had told him could make humans dance in the most captivating ways.

One night, Q was curled up next to his grandmother and was letting her groom his unruly curls into order, weaving pearls and the red flowers of his sun-shaped garden into them. Of all the Triton's children, Q was also the most beautiful and every creature thriving in the depths of the ocean sang hymns to the fairness of his skin and the brilliance of his absinth-green irises and even the best voices in the seven seas all intoning the same melody in perfect harmony paled in confront to Q's; everyone was sure that young prince's voice would be known even upon the land, to the point Queens and Kings would request for a live performance in their palaces.

In those moments, Q liked to imagine that the statue would have come to life and the handsome man, finally freed from the spell that had trapped him in a prison of stone, bent down to pluck those bloody offerings to thread them in a crown he would tenderly put upon his brow; it was a fantasy so detailed that he felt like the strong arms of marble were holding him in a comforting embrace, made warm by a love he had never felt in his life yet.

He looked up into his grandmother's eyes, studying the way age had etched a filigreed web of wrinkles on her face surrounded by hair as white as the towers of ice one of his sisters had seen upon her fifteenth birthday "Is there a way I could gain a soul?" he inquired, shyly because he knew his grandmother wouldn't be pleased to hear such questions out of him.

M frowned down at Q "You shouldn't think of these things: you don't need a soul" she chided gently but, since she understood the thirst for knowledge Q had, she answered to his worrying question anyway "Only if a man loved you more than he did his mother and his father, with all of his life, and only if a priest put your hand in his and made you promise to be forever faithful to each other - only then the man would give you a soul without forsaking his own" she whispered, not wanting the Triton to discover she had been telling his youngest potentially dangerous things that she was sure Q neatly filed away for later contemplation.

"Oh, if you would only give me a soul" Q started to whisper every day at the statue, long fingers caressing down those perfect features forever carved in marble and trying to imagine how warm the man's skin would feel under his damp digits "If only you'd love me, my beautiful Commander". Hadn't he been a merman, Q would have cried for the spirit of his statue in a plead to turn him into a thing of flesh and bones, but Merpeople didn't have tears and for that they suffered so much more: sorrow was an ugly tangle of knots trapped in their vocal chords that silenced their voices and made them feel like they were slowly chocking, lungs collapsing on themselves like a rotting fruit.

After much grief and waiting, Q's fifteenth birthday came and his whole body was thrumming with energy in a manner that made him resemble an electric eel, even his curls were wilder than usual and his grandmother's taming didn't do much to put his hair under a semblance of control. He couldn't spare even a minute to complain to his grandmother about the oysters shells she was clipping to the fanned end of his tail, his mind completely enraptured by the fact he was finally swimming up and up: higher than he had ever dared - than he had ever been permitted to until that moment "I've waited for so long" It almost didn't feel real and Q ran the pads of his fingers along the sharp edges of the shells piercing his tail to remind himself that it was all happening: he was an adult and he was free to do as he pleased, even if that would entail spending his whole days staring at the ships passing by and humans dancing with waves lapping at their feet.

"And finally your chance has come: I'm sure you'll enjoy your trip" M smiled at the young prince and her eyes, usually as cold as slates of rock and as piercing as the bite of a shark, shone with pride at the sight before her, acknowledging how well her youngest nephew had grown up - and, one day, he'd do much good to Merpeople thanks to his quick wit and cleverness "Go, the sun is as bloodied as your flowers when it sets upon the ocean" she encouraged with a tender smile. In the heart, though, a thorn of fear was making her ache and she hoped that Q wouldn't be ensnared by a world that would never love him for what he was.

Q kissed his grandmother's cheek before swimming out of a window with childish glee, startling the fishes that lazily swam in and out, seemingly without reason. He barely spared part of his focus to wave at his brothers and sisters, every atom of his entire being projected upwards, skin crawling with the need to feel the breeze and the last sunrays of the day caressing him like a benevolent blessing.

The first breath of fresh hair burned down Q's throat and he gasped, coughing and laughing with exhilaration at the same time while he spied at the horizon with half-closed eyes, the brilliance too much to stand for his pupils used to the darkness of the ocean's depths. His pale arms were thrown open up towards the sky, sea-foam sliding down his wrists as if the ocean itself was having difficulties with letting its fairest child go; not that the flimsy hold would have ever been able to hold Q back, not once he managed to peel his eyelids open and the vastness of the world was forever seared in his retinas - an invisible brand of ownership.

As his grandmother had promised, the red circle of the sun was a vibrant echo of his garden, even as it slowly disappeared in the black waves and clouds were gathering around it, painted golden and orange by the fading sunlight: a storm was quickly approaching and Q couldn't wait to see streaks of blue fire flash in the sky; it was a spectacle that his siblings had often described to him but their words had never been enough to paint the beauty of that event. And when a great and old warship appeared from the shadows, Q couldn't restrain himself and his haunting voice broke up into a song, threaded in with the wailing wind picking up force and the murmuring melody of the ocean; too enraptured by the newness of the world filling his senses, Q didn't immediately notice that the ship seemed to be lost at sea, fighting to keep going until another ship materialised like a saviour or until it landed in a safe haven.

It was only the green blooming flowers lightening up in the sky and quickly frizzling out of existence, that attracted Q's attention and a frown dimpled his forehead, a dark valley in the satiny milky expanse of his skin in which all of his disorientation and confusion festered. Q dipped underwater and swam closer to the ship, trying to make sense of what was happening; he ran the palm of his hand along the metal flank of the ship, questing fingers probing every groove and bolt until they dipped into a deep gash, the contorted and torn metal slicing up the fleshy pads of his fingers.

The ship was going to sink and, as the thought hit him, bodies started to fall in the unforgiving ocean, roaring mightily like a great beast claiming its tribute in flesh and blood. Q couldn't do nothing but soothingly caress the faces of the soldiers struggling against the inhuman strength of the water pulling them down and forcing its way into their lungs. It was heartbreaking in a way that had never truly hit Q until that moment and he felt useless like never before; instead of singing to them about the beauties of his father's castle, he encouraged them with the thought of God waiting for their souls to welcome them in Paradise. But his voice died in his throat as soon as he spotted familiar features: his Commander was drowning just a few feet from him!

With a couple of powerful thrusts of his tail, Q was soon wrapping his arms around the man and swimming up towards the surface "Breathe" he pleaded, lips fluttering kisses all over that face he knew so well after long hours of contemplation "Breathe for me" Q whispered, his lips trembling close to the man's and he sighed in relief when he felt him exhale weakly - it was enough for Q, though, to know that his Commander was still alive and wouldn't be joining the corpses of his comrades already piling at the bottom of the ocean - and still, he felt the overwhelming need to take the Commander as far away as possible from that place and Q let the waves push them in which ever direction they wished. He kept his absinth-green eyes open the whole night, holding the Commander close to his chest to make sure he wouldn't sink again down in the freezing belly of the black ocean and that his heart kept beating, slow but strong in the cage of ribs.

Q's arms were getting weak with tiredness as the sun rose, glorious in a faultlessly blue sky - no sign of the tempest that had thrust his Commander into his care - and he spotted a villa with direct access on the ocean. Q's lithe body was pervaded by a last bout of energy and the only thing on his mind was that he needed to take the Commander to the rocky shore of the bay, knowing that he'd be found and assisted; it hurt Q, leaving the man forever, and he ducked behind a rock to wait for someone to appear.

A young woman, her skin as pale as ivory and her hair a long wave of darkness caressing her back, leaned over the golden rail of a balcony, stretching her arms up in the air with a soft smile on her lips and her eyes closed as she clearly luxuriated in the fresh morning breeze greeting her.

Q wanted to shout at her to open her eyes and look down - to save his beautiful Commander - but he knew he had to keep his silence, for humans couldn't discover the existence of Merpeople or they'd hunt them down, either to study them or exterminate them. But there was something he could do to attract the woman's attention; caressing the waters lapping at him, Q whispered to the ocean a request with his melodious and adored voice and soon after, a wave higher that the previous ones hit the shore with a thunderous noise and frothing foam.

Just as predicted, the beautiful woman lowered her eyes, wiping the salty and damp breeze from her brow as one might do to get rid of a light sheen of sweat, and her mouth opened into a shocked circle before she disappeared back inside the villa. She reappeared quickly on the shore, looking like an angel in her white billowy dress, running barefooted over the golden sands towards the unconscious soldier laying in her property. Q's eyes drank in the scene eagerly, waiting for the beautiful Commander to wake up and confirm that his efforts to bring him to safety hadn't been in vain - and when the Commander opened his eyes, Q felt his heart leap in his chest at the sight of a pair of blue eyes that were as icy and brilliant as his grandmother's: surely, that must have been a sign that they were destined together because no human ever had irises as brilliant as one of the Merpeople. Though, the joy was brief and quickly morphed into sorrow when Q saw how the Commander didn't look around for his saviour, but clearly believed the angel-like woman had saved him and his eyes never strayed from the sharp-edged oval of her face, as if admiring enraptured a godly apparition.

Q fled back into the ocean and he never swam as fast as he did that morning, quickly turning his back to that world he had wanted so badly to experience but that was giving him nothing but heartache in that moment. He swam past his sisters and brothers, all eagerly awaiting for his return to listen to his recounting of what he had experienced, starry-eyed and excited like a youngling; instead, Q passed them without a word and his beautiful face was darkened by a sorrow so deep that the Merpeople looked at the Triton, silently pleading for a solution for the youngest prince was also the most loved and his sadness seemed to affect every creature living in the black depths of the ocean.

No matter how much his siblings pleaded, Q never spoke a word about his first trip in the upside world and everyday he disappeared from the palace; nobody had the faintest idea about where Q went - only M had a suspicion worming its way through her mind, but decided not to confront her nephew about it and tried to cheer him up, tenderly caressing his hair and telling him about the humans' inventions he loved so much.

Predictably, the place Q left for everyday was the villa in which his Commander had been whisked away by the angelic woman; he went there in the hope of catching even the faintest of glimpses of his handsome man, but it never happened and, disconsolate, Q wilted behind his rock as he watched the inhabitants of the villa go about their days as if the Commander had never crashed into their lives and changed them forever - because Q couldn't imagine that someone hadn't been as touched as he had by the blond soldier.

At sunset, bathed in the reddish-orange light of the setting sun, Q always made his way back home where he knew his family was growing increasingly worried for him; if he could, he would have cast away the sadness enveloping him and reassured everyone that he was alright, as curious and cheerful as he had been before his fifteenth birthday. But years passed and, thanks to his frequent trips to the villa, Q had easily become an expert in recognising the different seasons and the way they affected the humans he could see from his secluded spot, studying them with only an half-interested gaze: their skin always showed a lot and darkened when the sun became a blazing disc, while when the sky was blanketed in thick clouds, they lost their edges became rounder because of the many clothes they put on. With the passing of time, Q had grown to be even more gorgeous - but not happier - than as a child and his voice had slightly deepened, its timbre unique amongst his siblings.

Though, he tried to put a cheerful mask on for one of the frequent celebrations of his people, who loved to laugh and have fun until they could, so that death wouldn't bring any regrets along. Q was supposed to be the main performer and everyone looked forwards to sit and let themselves be enraptured by his haunting songs "I don't think I can do it" Q murmured to the sister he felt closest to; Eve's skin was the same colour as charcoal and it made her stand out amongst the paleness characteristic of Merpeople - everyone had whispered she was bound to become some kind of evil priestess since, after all, also the skin of the Sea Witch was of a darker tone than normal.

Eve caressed her brother's shoulder with light fingertips "Why?" she didn't need to ask what Q didn't think he couldn't do; he had been used to sing in public since he was a child and he had never showed to have no faith in his talent or abilities - it meant he couldn't do what people most wanted from him: to be happy again. Eve was worried as anyone else and she missed her little brother's smiles, the hatred for the upside world brimming in her heart as she thought how something or someone up there had upset Q so deeply that it had changed his sunny disposition.

Q sighed sadly and curled closer to Eve's side, tucking his head in the hollow between her neck and shoulder "Can you keep a secret?"

"Of course, baby brother. Tell me what has been weighing down on you and robbing you of your smiles" she encouraged, petting those hair their grandmother had already braided with pearls and flowers of a blue so deep and singer that made Eve's heart ache and long for the red blossoms to be back in Q's inky black curls.

"I saved my Commander from a shipwreck and I brought him to a villa on the sea, for I hoped someone would find him and help him" the words left Q's throat shyly, tinged with tentativeness and fear of judgement: after all those years, Q had kept secret his first hours spent in the world of Man and it was the first time ever he even attempted to utter that tale "I swam so hard all the night, keeping his head above water and reassuring him in the way only us Merfolk know how to. When I lay him on the shore, I didn't expect him to actually remember me... But he believed the angelic woman living in the villa had saved him from death and he didn't even look around to look for his true saviour" Q sighed wistfully "He looked at her like one might look at a deity and my heart broke" admitting to what he was feeling only made Q's sadness bloom in his chest and his eyes stopped seeing his sister and the beauty of their home, filled only by the memory of his Commander's lips parting in gratitude for the woman in white.

That night, Eve listened to her brother perform with a different ear - one that was capable of perceiving the true breadth of Q's melancholia. But she kept the secret - mostly; after some months, the weight of being the sole person aware of the reason why Q was so sad became too heavy and she confided in one of their sisters. This sister too kept the secret, except she told to their oldest brother, for she had never kept something from him and trusted him to be able to find solutions even to the worst problems without having to go to their father, the Triton. This brother didn't deem himself good with heartaches and he deferred to the first of the Triton's children, a sister who would take their father's place on the throne when the time would come. The future ruler of the Merpeople was a judicious woman, but she too was still young and one couldn't condemn her for finding the confidence of her closest friend in this matter.

Q would have been mad at this cruel breach of his privacy that put on display his suffering for everyone to judge, if not for the fact that his oldest sister's best friend had told the tale to a cousin and this cousin knew the place where the Commander lived now, having seen him walk upon the shore with sea-foam climbing up his legs and spraying with salty water his trousers. Q never swam so quickly and he felt like his heart was going to burst both from fatigue and emotion as he emerged to the surface; hidden by a cliff, Q spent the whole day studying what he could see of the modest house on the beach, keeping his eyes as wide as possible in fear that the Commander would appear and disappear in a blink.

Q was starting to lose hope when, silhouetted by the silvery light of the evening star, the muscled frame of the Commander appeared on the beach; his hair looked like molten platinum and his tanned skin had acquired an ethereal shine, his eyes had turned sapphires in the night. It had been years since Q had last seen the Commander but he still made his heart throb and his body long to be different, with legs that would let him stand proud next to the man who had stolen his heart. The sight was enough to convince Q that he needed to go to the Sea Witch and plead him for a solution; no matter all the creepy stories that everyone told about him, the young prince was settled on looking for his help.

With a last longing glance to the Commander, Q swam away. He didn't head in the direction of home first, but immediately set on the path to reach the Sea Witch's lair, which was a system of caves situated in the darkest part of the ocean; there, in the pale sand, only bones whitened by the passing of time could be found - none of the beauties Q and his siblings sang about to the drowning sailors were present, not even a shimmering coral. Still, the young prince didn't let himself be frightened by the oppressive atmosphere and kept swimming through the maelstrom that protected the entrance to the lair, keeping his arms close to his body to avoid being grabbed by the malicious creatures loitering in the shadows and awaiting for fresh flesh to devour.

"If this isn't the fairest of Triton's children" a voice said, fading into a sinister cackle "What are you doing here, clever boy?" Silva asked, emerging from the dark womb of the caves with a cruel and interested smirk plastered over his full lips, lasciviously arched up as he petted a pair of evil morays rubbing themselves against his body.

Q's body was shaken by a shiver running down from the base of his skull to the fanned end of his tail "Sea Witch, I come to ask you for a spell to help me in my predicament" he admitted, voice wavering with anxiety and fear as he watched Silva swim closer to him, his platinum blond hair fanned like a halo around him and his olive skin shining darkly "I've heard great things about your magic and I'm sure you can find a solution to my problem" he stroked the other's ego, hoping to cut the meeting short. He could understand why his grandmother and the Triton had always tried to scare him and his siblings with tales about the Sea Witch: evil came off in waves from the merman, making his visitors feel like they were being slowly strangled by the sickness radiating from Silva.

"And what you might wish for, young prince? You're loved by every single citizen in this kingdom and your beauty is unrivalled" Silva inquired, swimming closer to Q in order to run a caressing hand along the side of his face.

"Love"

"Love?!" Silva laughed in the younger merman's face "Not such a clever boy after all" he sentenced smugly, crossing his arms over his chest and regarding Q with curiosity, wondering why someone as worshipped as the youngest of the Triton's children would need a spell to find love - surely, the boy didn't lack any suitors to his hand.

Q recoiled from the other's touch and cast his eyes down "I need legs to conquer the heart of a Man, so that he'll marry me and give me a soul" he explained in more detail, ignoring the taunting in Silva's voice: he was too determined to be happy with his Commander to be discouraged by cruel words and judgement "Please, help me: I'll give you whatever you want" he pleaded through gritted teeth, hating the fact that he had to lower himself to crawl at the feet of such an evil creature; but he swallowed the bile down and raised his absinth-green irises to look at Silva in the eyes "Please"

"Your voice" Silva sentenced, his hand shooting forward to cradle Q's pale throat with his spindly fingers "I want your voice"

Q froze under the other's touch, fear gripping him tightly in a way that cut his breath and locked his muscles "How.. how will I make him love me without my voice?" words trembling like vibrating glass on the point of shattering.

Silva arched an eyebrow "You're already so gorgeous: your beauty and expressive eyes that speak of love will surely be enough to seduce the Commander" he said in a manner he thought to be reassuring but which was actually quite creepy "Besides, I'll have to spill my own blood to prepare you elixir. Do you want your man or not? Where's your courage now, young prince?"

"Yes! Yes, please: I want him" Q pleaded with desperation and desire: he was so close, so close, to conquering the love of his Commander and finally being happy.

The Sea Witch let out a boisterous and evil laugh that made his voice sound scratchy and rough "Let's begin, then!"

Q observed with fearful eyes as Silva started throwing ingredients inside of the huge cauldron in the middle of the cave: many repulsive creature's lives ended in the preparation of the elixir, which smell was as revolting as its murky colour. The last ingredient to be added was the blood of the Sea Witch: it was as dark and thick as the petrol that poisoned the ocean and it made the mixture turn a bright golden hue that dissipated the shadows in the cave.

"As promised, here there is your key to the upside world" Silva smiled, pouring the elixir in a flask but as the young prince reached for it, he took it back immediately "You have to pay first, my dear: stick that tongue of yours out" he ordered, brandishing a knife encrusted with old blood in front of Q's trembling lips.

The merman took a deep sigh before opening his mouth and letting his tongue out for the blade to sever it, bringing away his ability to sing and talk. The pain was searing but brief, making Q shudder at thought of how many times the Sea Witch had done something similar - he no more could ask how many of the Merfolk swam around without a piece of themselves though, for he had forsaken his voice for forever. However, his thoughts didn't remain dark for long and, as soon as the flask was placed in his hands, a small smile of true happiness blossomed on Q's lips.

"Now, remember that once you'll dawn this potion on the pale sands in front of your Commander's home, you'll never be able to turn back into one of the Merfolk and if you won't conquer his love, you'll stay a soulless creature. The day after he'll marry another, as the first ray of sun will caress your fair skin, you will be turned into sea-foam and be condemned to Purgatory until God won't end this world" Silva reminded the beautiful prince, cradling his cheek in one hand and squeezing the soft flesh almost painfully "Go, my child"

Q didn't need to be told twice and he escaped the Sea Witch's lair, never glancing back and keeping his gaze focused on the brilliance of the elixir that chased the darkness away. When he passed in front of the palace, which was dark since everyone was sleeping after one of the many parties that were held by the royal family; sadness momentarily squeezed his heart at the realisation that he would never see his siblings and relatives again but... He needed to go and abandon them to be happy. Q went on swimming, focusing on his destination and how he would manage to make the Commander fall in love with him without his voice.

Arrived at the beach, Q observed the house with new eyes: that would become his home from now on and he would share it with the man who had stolen and broken his heart without even knowing it. He caressed his fishtail one last time before uncorking the flask and drinking down the potion, which tastes as foul as it had looked before turning into golden honey; unthinkable pain coursed through his body and Q let out an agonised moan at the feeling of his tail splitting in two to give way to his legs, centimetre after centimetre - looking down just a few seconds before passing out from the pain, he was surprised not to see the sand painted in blood.

He didn't realise the pain would become his constant companion in life: in fact, Silva had omitted to say to the young prince that every step he would take on this new legs, it would hurt as if he was walking on a growing carpeted in shards of glass.

When Q opened his eyes again, a face was bent over his own to obscure the blazing sun and a set of worried blue irises was looking down at him - blue eyes that made his heart beat furiously in his throat.

"I'm glad to see you finally awake: you really had me worried for a minute" James smiled to the stranded stranger, shrugging off the jacket of his suit to drape it over his naked and vulnerable body "Can you tell me who you are and how you ended up here?" he inquired gently, brushing a stray curl from the young man's forehead.

Q's mouth parted slightly in a mute sigh and he shook his head, disconsolate; to explain his negative answer, he brought a hand to his throat and looked up at his Commander with eyes full of sadness.

"Are you a mute?" James asked, frowning a bit as he tried to understand whether the young man was hurt or just naturally incapable of speaking.

Q nodded to the question and took one of James' hands, tracing with a light fingertips the letter 'Q' on his palm a couple of times before pointing at himself.  

"You're... Q?" James inquired at the oddness of a one-letter long name "I'm James" he added when the other smiled brightly in confirmation to his question.

James. Finally Q had a name to attach to the gorgeous features of his Commander and he couldn't help thinking that, in its simplicity, it suited the man very much. As if catching up just then, his body trembled a bit because of the cool breeze and Q tucked the odd piece of clothing closer to his torso, glad to feel some warmth deep into his skin.

James studied Q for a couple of seconds more before he started helping him up on his feet "Come on, let's get you inside and in warm clothes - the sun might be out, but it's quite cold" he told the still dazzled-looking stranger. His grip tightened a bit around Q's waist as the young man whined in pain when his feet touched the sand; they didn't look broken or even cut, and James couldn't explain himself what night have been bringing such pain to the young man.  

At the first shard of pain frizzling up his spine, Q thought that something was evidently wrong with his legs - that Silva had tricked him with a potion that made him a cripple: his knees knocked into each other rather clumsily all of his muscles trembled in the effort of holding him up as his feet hurt in a way he would have never even been able to imagine. Though, gritting his teeth and with James' help, he manages to get in the house quite unscathed - the fact that it was his Commander the be holding him close to his side, it was what gave Q the strength to put a foot in front of the other until he's helped to sit down into a comfy armchair. Q wished he could thank properly James, but could just hold his hands together as if in prayer and bow his head in gratitude.

"Just.. let me grab some clothes for you" James reassured Q before disappearing further into the house, going to his bedroom to find something comfortable and not too large for the lithe stranger; in the end, he opted for a sweater and a pair of pyjamas bottoms - both would be quite oversized on Q but at least would keep him warm. James went back to the living room and gave the clothes to the weird young man "Here"

Q took the bundle of soft fabric and looked at it with a puzzled gaze, trying to make sense about how he was supposed to out them on. With a shy smile, Q stood up on shaky legs and discarded the jacket without a thought to his nudity: Merfolk didn't have such a concept in their culture and seeing naked skin wasn't s taboo, what with the fact they spent their lives swimming half-naked around the ocean.

James averted his gaze to give Q some privacy. He couldn't help noticing how familiar he looked, with his skin as pale as snow and beautiful absinth-green irises, his visage framed by raven curls - the whole picture reminded him of the person who had saved him from certain death and, despite the Q's oddness, James couldn't help but being warmed up by that similarity the young man shared with his saviour "Do you feel better?" James asked, turning around to check on Q; a chuckle escaped his lips when he saw the other struggle with the holes in the sweater. Instinctively, he reached over and helped Q to put his limbs in the sleeves.

Q blushed heavily at the touch of the Commander's hands on his skin and he trembled slightly, shrinking back in his shoulders to stop his skin from prickling up in goose bumps. Once he was tucked in the sweater, Q took James' hand in his own and wrote 'thank you' on his skin with a fingertip.

"You're welcome" James reassured Q, squeezing his hands gently "Do you have somewhere to go?" he inquired tentatively, wanting to avoid appearing particularly insensitive for asking such a question - but he needed to know: he certainly couldn't leave Q on the streets to fend for himself; while being mute didn't mean that he was stupid, he would have more problems defending himself. And James had the weird urge to protect that young man, shelter him and make him feel welcomed and warm.

Pursing his lips in a sad frown, the young prince shook his head and his mouth parted to let out a mute sigh. How he wished he could speak and tell his Commander that he was his saviour, that he had swum the whole night to save him because of a love so strong that in its name he had repudiated his own nature and sold his voice to the Sea Witch to have legs - but he couldn't and so, Q made his eyes speak the words and he hoped James would understand their secret and quiet language.  

"You can stay here" James immediately offered as that sad face looked up at him, sorrow almost twisting the beautifully ethereal features "I mean, if you want to. I live alone so... You wouldn't disturb me, actually you would be doing me a service with your company" he added and winced internally, finding his words almost too eager. Only Q's answering smile was enough to make him feel alright and James instinctively brought those hands to his mouth, kissing the knuckles in thanks.

From that day, James' life started to look up again; during the sinking of the warship he was travelling upon, he had sustained an injury to his leg that had ruined him forever for active service: it had been a hard blow and it had taken James the presence of a beautiful mute young man in his home to bring him out of his depression. It had started with the drinking; in the beginning, a bottle wouldn't last a whole day - but with Q around to care for, James even barely drank a glass of wine during meals. Then he had stopped his self-imposed isolation and the house begun filling again with guests and friends. Q had saved him - again, even if the man didn't know it. James repayed Q with all he could offer him: shelter, food, friendship, clothes... the young man didn't seem to be completely in tune with life in a complex and advanced society and James wondered about whether he had been living the majority of his life on some forsaken island, far away from civilisation and a family; he taught Q how to eat properly at the table, subtly showing him how to use silverware in order not to embarrass him, and he amusedly explained him what kind of clothes were appropriate for different situations - not that he managed to accomplish much in that department: Q was absurdly fond of hideous sweaters that swallowed him whole and clashing patterns. He was eccentric and James loved that, breathing Q in as if he was a cool breeze blowing new life in his lonely house.

For his part, Q couldn't believe how many things about humans he had missed while observing them from the confines of the ocean and, in the beginning, his thirst for knowledge and the happiness of finally being with his Commander were enough to make Q blind regarding the nature of James' feelings towards him - there just were too many things to fill his head with and James was an eager teacher, one who never mocked him for his ignorance and who patiently sat with him and taught him a rudimental kind of sign language and how to write, making it possible for them to communicate more easily; it helped a lot and after some months, Q surprised himself when he realised he had stopped innerly bemoaning the loss of his voice.

It was only when the first parties started being held at their home that Q noticed the different way James held himself when looking for something more than what they had: the Commander's demeanour completely morphed and he became a predator in a handmade tailored suit that made everyone's heads - no matter gender or age or status - turn to give him a good look, as if trying to asses whether such a creature could be real; his spine straightened and made his shoulders appear broader and stronger, a fierce and playful glint took residence in his brilliant irises that reminded Q of home so much that it was almost painful, his mouth twisted up in an alluring and vaguely mischievous curve while his voice dropped into satiny lower notes. And the focus of all that charm and predatory grace would inevitably fall for James, making Q's heart ache whenever he saw his Commander and the conquest of the night disappear in the depths of the house, ready to spoil the pristine sheets in one of the guest rooms or stain the upholstery of a sofa in one of the semi-abandoned parlours.

Q needed to put more effort, if he wanted to win James' heart over and so, when he was told they were going to host another celebration that night - a considerably smaller one to which only intimate friends had been invited - Q closed himself in his room and sat on the bed in front of his wardrobe, its doors open wide to display all of his clothes. Not that he had much to choose from: he owned only one suit, a pearly grey affair of tweed that had made Q's digits tingle the first time he had stroked the fabric, and it was the only attire that would attract James' attention to his lithe and graceful figure. But it wouldn't be enough - he would need to socialize and put himself on display, make his Commander see that he could be his companion if only he chose him; Q would try to overcome his shyness and the fear of judgement, standing tall in the middle of the ballroom next to the man he loved in a silent claim. And when that evening James knocked at his door and his face was coloured with delight and surprise, Q couldn't help thinking that he had been a fool not putting an effort before then for James: the man looked positively bewitched and the young prince's heart started beating fast in his chest, thrumming happily against the cage of his ribs.

"You look great, Q" James murmured with a smile, offering the other his arm and fondly caressing his cheek with his knuckles as Q's pale skin blushed a dusty pink that made his pale complexion look healthier and more radiant - a clear sign that he was pleased with the compliment "The ladies will be all fighting for a chance to be spinned around the dancefloor by you" he added with a warm and ford voice, glad that Q might be opening up a little. 

Q's bright smile tightened a bit at the mention of women competing to dance with him; he had never payed them any attention - neither to other men, to be honest - since his focus had always been on his Commander. Q gently squeezed James' bicep and followed him down the stairwell, the noises of a distantly played music and voices mingled with the melody and reached his ears: it appeared that the party was in full swing already. 

The familiar sight of the ballroom filled with well dressed people made Q squirm a bit in his shoulders, trying to make himself as inconspicuous as possible - he had abandoned the ocean in order to be noticed by James only, not by other people too. But he swallowed his uncomfortableness down and raised his chin a bit, smiling in greeting at some of the guests he had gotten used to see there. 

"Alec!" James grinned at his best friend and slightly quickened his pace, gently tugging Q along and shaking him out of his reverie with his voice "I'm glad you could make it"

Alec Trevelyan smiled back at his friend, his blue eyes taking in the other's happiness and he finally felt the fear for James' health - both physical and psychological - fade away. In his opinion, his friend only lacked a woman that would make him feel as if was standing on the top of the world - luckily, he knew James' taste very well and had invited the right lady as his plus one to the party "I always make an effort for you" Alec greeted back before letting his eyes stray to Q; after the initial distrust he had felt towards the young man, Alec had tried to get to know him for his friend's sake and had discovered that he quite liked Q, who could be the most entertaining conversationalist in the room even if he was a mute "You look lovely tonight, Q"

Q bowed his head in thanks and let a shy smile blossom on his lips: since he had left his home, that night was the first time his beauty had been acknowledged and it brought his heart some comfort - without his voice, only his appearance could draw the attention of other people. Or so had said the Sea Witch and, while Q didn't trust Silva, he had given him what he had asked for and probably knew better than him what humans liked. 

Alec teasingly coed at the blush spreading on the younger man's face "Don't turn shy on me now" he said, his hand going to ruffle those black curls.

Q swatted the hand away with a mute, but clearly long-suffering, sigh.  

"Now, that's more like it. I have a person to introduce to you both and I want her to see your delightful smile" Alec explained, taking advantage of the situation to steer James towards the lady he had brought to the party just for the sake of his friend. 

"A person?" James inquired. 

 _Her?_ Q's mind echoed, somewhat panicking as they followed the other man. 

Alec gave the both of them a cheeky grin, pale blue eyes dancing with mischief "Vesper Lynd"

"You need stop to gossiping about me or I'll start presuming you say hateful things behind my back" a female voice interjected before Alec could get another word in and Q turned around on his heels - and his heart stopped. 

James let go of Q's arm and took a steep closer "It's you" he murmured, brilliant irises taking in the dark angel sta ding in front of him, gotten in her purple dress that made her eyes shine greener - almost the same shade of absinthe as Q's "You saved me"

 _No, I saved you_. Q looked at the woman - Vesper - as one might look at their impending doom: she was beautiful and perfect, her smile the right balance between mysterious and interested - a cocktail bound to attract his Commander's attention. 

"Wait, do you know each other?" Alec inquired perplexedly but, in the end, quite happy that the matchmaking would go smoother than he thought: the two were looking at each other with bewitched expressions and Alec couldn't restrain himself from smiling widely at that.

"In a way" Vesper murmured, tilting her head to the side as if to better study the Commander. 

Q couldn't watch anymore of that. Unseen, he retraced his steps back to his bedroom and there he lost his suit, leaving it in a tangled heap on the floor. Only wearing his shirt, Q went to the beach; his delicate feet bled even on the soft sand and not even the coolness of the waves lapping at them could soothe the ache - that was all that he had gained from chasing his Commander: pain, which came in so many different flavours that Q almost couldn't believe it. 

But he loved James. 

Even if, as it turned out after some months dating Vesper, James didn't love him back - not in the same way at least. 

"I know it might seem early but... I love her" James admitted. They were sitting at the breakfast table on the dais, fine-boned teacups filled with bronzed tea that shimmered in the light of the setting sun "She's everything I have ever wanted and I'd like you to stand by my side at our marriage - you who, above anyone else but Vesper, loves me the most" 

His Commander couldn't even begin to imagine how much those words hurt the young prince, who merely nodded and stared in the murky depths of his tea - for he first time since he had decided to give up his life in the ocean, Q was glad that he had no voice because he was sure he would have started yelling if he had the physical opportunity. For the man's sake, once he was sure he hsd some control over his features, Q raised his face and smiled in reassurance. 

James' answering grin was almost torture: worse than his bleeding feet and the pain of the potion-induced transformation put together. 

The preparations for the marriage bloomed around Q, who silently tried to make himself helpful while nursing his broken heart: tailors invaded the house with rich swatches of fabric, which they draped over James to better choose which one would flatter the most his figure; small squares of cake appeared with tea and they were supposed to choose which were good enough to be proposed to the bride to be; Q's expertise with curls was employed to help the stylists decide how to adorn Vesper's hair; orange blossoms made the air thick and almost impossible to breathe with their exotic and decadently luxurious scent; the notes of a violin created evanescent symphonies, tangling together with a sorrowful sounding piano.

When the day arrived, it found Q helping Vesper into her beautiful gown, as white and pillowy-soft as freshly fallen snow; along with the shimmering veil of golden thread obfuscating her features and the bouquet of bleeding red roses in her hands, the dress made Vesper seem a godly apparition and Q was sure many of the guests would have a hard time not falling to their knees in front of such a display of vibrant beauty.

"Thank you" she murmured and Q looked up at her, an eyebrow arched up inquiringly as he tucked a stray curl behind her hear, weighted down by pearls so round and big that had been Q's gift to the bride "I've seen how you look at him: thank you for standing by his side anyway - for not antagonising me" Vesper added to better answer to Q's mute question.

Q's eyes widened and his cheek paled in horrified shame: he had thought he had been hiding his feelings rather well, especially from Vesper with whom he didn't spend much time. Offering only a jerky nod in answer, Q quickly left the room and went to tend to himself; James had insisted that he'd be dressed almost as fancily as he and Vesper, ignoring the fact that Q's heart ached even more at the subtle reminders that this should have been his happy day.

The ceremony was to happen on a ship and throughout the simple but enchanting ceremony, Q couldn't help but smirk at himself at the bitter irony of the situation. Only when the priest put Vesper's hand in James', Q was forced to look away to hide the tears running down his cheeks - and, far on the surface of the sea glimmering with the setting sunshine, Q saw his siblings' heads poking from the water. The young prince was glad to see them one last time before death came to claim him and, once he had congratulated the couple, he went to the banister and covertly waved at them - only, he frowned heavily when he noticed their long and luscious hair had been cut off rather atrociously.

The waves surged and they brought up M to the same level as her nephew, her trembling fingers holding a knife and putting it in Q's hands "We went to the Sea Witch: we know what you did, Q, and we sacrificed our hair to give you the mean to free yourself from the dark magic imprisoning you. You need to stab the bride before morning comes, then you'll be freed of the burden of legs and welcomed back to the ocean for another chance" despite the fierceness of her character, M was heartbroken over Q's predicament and her voice came out of her throat pleading and desperate.

Q shook his head at those words and tried to push the knife back in in his grandmother's hands, sneaking glances behind his shoulder to check that nobody was looking at him: he definitely didn't need the attention.

"No, Q - keep it and kill her" M insisted, pushing the blade so forcefully in Q's hands that she almost cut her own palms "Everyone is mourning you" she added, hoping that the knowledge that his disappearance was causing so much grief to the Merpeople would persuade her nephew to do what was necessary to save himself.  Before he could say more or, worse, try again to give her back the knife, M commanded the waves to lower her in the ocean again and from there she looked up at Q with wide and imploring eyes.

Not knowing what to do, Q hid the knife in the inner pocket of his jacket and hoped that everyone was too drunk to notice how it deformed the fabric. It had been too long since he had isolated himself from the celebrations and, with a last confused glance to his family, Q turned his back to the sea and plastered a smile all over his face. Even as he danced as if it was the last night of his life, uncaring of his bleeding feet and the stabs of pain shooting up his legs, the weight of the weapon that had been so surprisingly thrust upon him  managed to shake him from the dreamlike state in which his mind had fallen - a constant reminder that this night didn't necessarily have to be his last. And when the party died down, the knife started burning against his shirt, making his fingers itch with the need to be wrapped around the handle and bury it in Vesper's heart.

As silent as a cat, Q made his way towards the cabin in which the wedded couple had retired early; they had been so clearly eager to be alone, all over each other and hands wandering almost too suggestively considering that Vesper still was fitted in her white dress, and Q had had to look to the other side: in all conscience, he didn't think himself able to wish them a good night, not when the majority of his mind was screaming that he was the one supposed to make a mess of James' sheets. The door was rather carelessly unlocked and Q slipped in without effort, knuckles turning white as he tightened his grip on the knife and his gaze snapped around the cabin, trying to collect as many details as possible in the blue-hued darkness.

Vesper's wedding dress abandoned in am ungraceful heap on the carpet by the empty and cold fireplace.

James' tie draped over the brass handle of the dresser.

A pair of pearl earrings carefully nestled in satin.

A golden veil hanged like a shimmering cloud on the bedside table.

Two sets of arms were wrapped around each other.

And a smile, so beautiful because it was completely genuine, on James' face.

Q couldn't kill Vesper: his Commander's happines was what mattered the most to him and the young prince would have never been able to live with himself withe knowledge he had destroyed James' chance at happiness; it wasn't as if killing his bride would give Q anothe chance to win the man's heart - no, he would have to go back to his home in the sapphire depths of the ocean, exiled from the upside world and the man he loved. It would have been uselessly cruel and selfish of him. He walked out of the cabin, making sure not to make any noise and wake up the slumbering spouses, and retraced his steps back to the banister; with alll of his strenght, Q cast the knife away towards the sea, the first ray of sunlight catching on the sharp edge of the blade.

He followed barely a second after, body already liquifying into sea-foam while still in middle air - surprisingly, it didn't hurt.

Q smiled sadly as he splintered into a miriad of water drops, falling into the ocean - back at home: time to see what all the fuss about afterlife for Merpeople was.

A new adventure had just begun.

 

**Author's Note:**

> http://sunaddicted.tumblr.com/post/149052483443/modern-little-mermaid-au-have-you-ever-loved  
> I also made this lol


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